


to begin our love again

by MayWilder



Series: i'll dry your tears [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, I don't know if it's smut, Jon Snow is Not a Targaryen, Semi-smut, i think (?), it's self-indulgent is what it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 15:05:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/pseuds/MayWilder
Summary: “Mine,” he growls. Theon whimpers nods, but Robb needs more. After everything that’s happened, between Theon’s bad choices and Robb’s indecision. “Tell me, Theon. This arse is mine, that cock is mine. Tell me that you are mine as much as I am yours because I belong to you.”“As I belong to you.” Theon trembles, but he turns around and is on his knees the same way Robb is. He takes his face in his hands. “I belong to you, Robb Stark. Take me, mark me, do whatever you need. I am giving myself to you. Do you hear me? Wholeheartedly, eagerly, happily. I am yours.”OrRobb and Theon are in love, and finally don't hide it.





	to begin our love again

**Author's Note:**

> I felt the need to write something from Robb's POV. I felt like I didn't treat him with enough affection in the last two pieces, that I wanted to get inside his head and see how much he just adores Theon. This was written to make myself happy.  
> (Also, I've never written a trace of smut. This little tid-bit is the best I can do.)
> 
> Title from poem by Atticus.  
> "Come my darling,/ it is never too late/ to begin our love again"

Robb is antsy.

He and Theon have agreed not to pursue anything between the two of them quite yet. He’s only been back at Winterfell for eight days, and neither are wanting to rush into bed or romance without establishing Theon with the Starks again. Robb still wants Theon—God, does he want Theon, in every fucking way—and it makes him nervous that maybe Theon has moved on. God knows Robb took long enough to come around to who he was.

Theon, in his suit, though…

Robb takes another glass of champagne and watches Theon talk to Renly Baratheon.

Does he have to look so…alluring? Robb is supposed to be staying away, giving him a respectful distance and making sure they would actually want each other. Not just because Theon was Robb’s first time or because Theon loved Robb for over ten years, but because they wanted their friendship back at least. Robb should be leaping for joy that Theon is giving him that and yet fifteen years of repressed sexuality is not the easiest thing to deal with when Theon likes fashion and _clothes and looking so goddamn good._

Theon looks best in dark colors. He looks fantastic in anything, of course, but there’s something about a royal purple or a dark blue. The dark blue, which he’s wearing right now, is perfect. The fabric of the plants cling to his bum in a way that draws the eye, while his suit jacket is toned down for Theon’s usual—dark blue velvet, lined with silver. His tie is silver, sparkling, and it catches Robb’s eye so that he is drawn to the way the white dress shirt settles against Theon’s lean muscles. Robb remembers briefly, being eighteen years old, licking and biting his way along that torso before nipping at Theon’s collarbone and hearing him moan, feeling him shift—

_I’ve either had too much champagne or not enough._

A woman passes with a tray, and he swaps his empty glass for a new one.

_This is going to be a long night._

“Don’t worry,” a voice says from behind him. “The night will be over soon enough.”

Robb glances over to find Jon standing directly beside him. On the other side is Sansa, their arms linked together and making them look like the perfect couple. To the eye, they fit together nicely. Robb knows they do in personality as well and wonders when it will finally happen.

“I didn’t expect it to be this hard,” Robb admits with a sigh. “I was so used to repressing my feelings and emotions, but now its like I can’t get them back into the box long enough to re-establish a friendship footing.”

“A little more time, maybe,” Sansa says in encouragement.

Jon glances at Sansa almost mournfully. “Healing is more important.”

“But Theon could be healed soon,” Sansa offers.

Robb nods. “You’re right. I’m just being selfish. I should be _realistic_.”

Sansa gives a sad smile and moves to kiss his cheek. He squeezes her arm, tells her she looks beautiful, and sends her on her way. 

When they leave to dance, Robb drinks another glass of champagne and feels more relaxed. He dances and laughs with the people around the room and absolutely does not think about littering Theon’s body with love bites every time a man or woman smiles at the handsome Greyjoy in a velvet suit that he shouldn’t be able to pull off but does.

The party is soon led to the massive balcony of Winterfell to reign in the New Year with fireworks. Robb is near his family, ends up jostled next to Theon and standing shoulder-to-shoulder. He’s laughing at something Arya says, head thrown back and neck exposed. Robb thinks the champagne definitely got to him because when everything goes a little fuzzy—sight and sound—Theon is perfectly clear. His laugh is loud and joyous, his smile lights up his face, and he’s so beautiful that Robb thinks he might have just made a sort of strangled sound.

The countdown is closer to one and Theon drops his eyes to look at Robb. The wide smile on his face gentles down to something tender and fond. Robb wonders what on earth he did to deserve that look and reaches for Theon’s stupid sparkling tie.

 _Three seconds of courage_ , he thinks as the crowd gets louder and the anticipation bigger.

_Three seconds of courage._

He pulls Theon in for a kiss and prays—

Theon kisses him back.

Robb moans in relief into Theon’s mouth. He doesn’t care that he knows journalists are here, people are taking videos and happen to catch him. He doesn’t care that Jon is probably disappointed in him or that he’s had too much to drink. He doesn’t care because Theon has arms around his neck, hands in his hair, while also pulling closer and licking his way into Robb’s mouth. He tastes like vanilla frosting from the cake they’d been serving. He feels good, strong and sure under Robb’s hands, which grasp at his suit jacket and his hips and maybe even that arse because it feels so good to do it.

They pull apart panting, their New Year’s kiss having drawn much more attention than anyone else’s. Theon’s eyes are dark, and his lips wet, but he’s smiling. “Happy New Year, Robb."

“Happy New Year,” Robb breathes. They kiss again, something less theatrical but just as desperate. “I’m sorry if its too soon.”

“’S not.” Theon kisses him again. “I love you.”

“I love you. Everything about you, in every way. I love you.”

They kiss again, and Robb is fucking flying.

**)-(**

When they get back to Winterfell, Robb expects that Theon and he will go separate ways (despite grinding in the back of the car the entire way home) because they’re tipsy and shouldn’t be rushing things.

Theon, however, takes Robb’s hand and leads him back to Robb’s own bedroom and says that he’s waited long enough. Robb is powerless.

They step into the room and Robb presses Theon to the door for a long, lazy kiss. Their bodies are close as they can get through clothes and Robb thinks they wordlessly agree that it’s not close enough. Theon pulls at the suit jacket and Robb reaches for his tie.

“I love you,” he whispers against Theon’s lips. “So goddamn much.”

“Tell me,” Theon demands. “Tell me a thousand times, I need to hear it.”

So, Robb kisses down Theon’s chest while unbuttoning his shirt. “I love you. I love when you paint, and you get so lost in a project that you don’t hear anyone speaking. That you play music while painting, not because you need it, but because people leave you alone while you do. Nothing can pull you from painting.”

Theon whimpers when Robb is on his knees, biting at his hip bone.

“I love that you get angry when you get quiet. You never scream or yell, you just drop your voice and tell it how it fucking is.”

Robb works at Theon’s belt buckle and unbuttons his trousers with his teeth. Theon moans, as Robb continues by using his teeth to pull at the zipper before using his hands once more.

“I love you when you laugh because it makes something ache in my chest, but in a good way. I can’t breathe because you’re so beautiful.”

Theon’s head hits the door. Robb is pressing kisses to his thigh and nipping at his hip bone, avoiding the cock that’s desperate for attention inches from his face. He begins to pull Theon’s shoes away so that the trousers can come off all the way.

“I love you, Theon Greyjoy, because you remind me to have fun and let loose. Because you cry when you watch _Love, Actually_ even though you say you hate it. Because you’re so unabashedly yourself.”

Robb realizes he has tears in his eyes and looks up to meet Theon’s affectionate gaze.

“I love you. I love you in my bones and in my lungs and in my gut. I love you for your creativity and the way you make people laugh. For your arrogance, your morning irritability if you’ve not had tea—I love you.”

And before Theon can reply, Robb takes him in his mouth. Theon makes a choked noise, hands moving for Robb’s hair. Robb moans around him and tries to open his throat so he can bob slowly on Theon’s cock. He wants to take as much of him as possible.

“Fuck,” Theon grits out. “How are you so good at this, years later? Have you been putting this mouth on other cocks Robb?”

Robb pulls off. “Never. I just like yours.”

He licks the underside of Theon before swirling his tongue around the head. Theon likes that, so Robb pulls it into his mouth and hollows his cheeks before continuing his attentions. Theon whimpers and his hips stutter and Robb thinks, that if he didn’t want this to last forever, he’d suck Theon off and swallow every bit that he could. Instead, he pulls off and turns Theon around. The bum before his eyes makes Robb groan and he grabs it, leaning forward to bite a love mark into it.

“Mine,” he growls. Theon whimpers nods, but Robb needs more. After everything that’s happened, between Theon’s bad choices and Robb’s indecision. “Tell me, Theon. This arse is mine, that cock is mine. Tell me that _you_ are mine as much as I am yours _because I belong to you_.”

“As I belong to you.” Theon trembles, but he turns around and is on his knees the same way Robb is. He takes his face in his hands. “I belong to you, Robb Stark. Take me, mark me, do whatever you need. I am giving myself to you. Do you hear me? Wholeheartedly, eagerly, happily. I am _yours_.”

Robb lunges forward and their lips are pressed together again. Theon bites at his bottom lip and reaches for Robb’s clothes, mumbling about too much. It’s a little disorganized because Robb is kicking off his shoes and Theon is pulling at his shirt, all the while they try to kiss and lick and bite. Somehow, they end up stripping Robb until they’re tangled in a naked mess on Robb’s floor. They haven’t made it past the lounging area and into the bedroom. Robb wants to demand that they move, but Theon is sitting on top of him, both of their cocks in his hand.

It’s truly the most erotic thing Robb has ever seen. Theon’s basked in a firelight glow and glistening with sweat while he and Robb rut against each other. They feel too good together, it’s been too long, and, _and_ —

Theon comes with a shout, falling forward so his face is inches from Robb’s, and the sight draws Robbs own orgasm without enough warning. It’s a mess, they’re kissing and crying, and Robb thinks, _This is only the beginning._

**Author's Note:**

> i'm maywildflowers on tumblr. hit me up for a trash can of my faves


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